Hello there. I, Malcolm Turnbull am your new Prime Minister. I have been practicing successful party room spills all over my beloved wife Lucy’s party room floor for some years.

‘Yes Darling’ she gasps, ‘now is the time for the shafting, NOW!’

She still finds it very exciting, scheduling a meeting with my staff. Lucy’s always trying to get me to pass a motion in her Lower House, but me? I’m an Upper House man.

I’m humbled by my traditional leadership style, as was Lucy, when I opened her agenda last. Lucy is looking forward to me jamming my ballot into her box later this evening. I consulted her about her preferences and she assured me, (her Prime Minister) that she would continue to serve me well.

‘Not another stimulus package’ I beg my insatiable wife. ‘I’m already in deficit’, and we snigger together like young lovers. Reborn, once more, through the aphrodisiac of power, control, dominance, submission.

Meanwhile, my trusted Deputy Julie Bishop will soon be addressing Lucy’s party room too, while I simultaneously (and quite firmly) consult her backbench. There’s so much to push through, I can’t do it alone. I hope to be spending some time in Julie’s ministerial office too. This will come as no surprise, given the party has temporarily lost its way, metaphorically speaking. We need to work together creatively in caucus, some of the old hands will need to be moved on.

Right now, there’s a revolving door of experienced performers just gagging to get into my Cabinet, however I’m always looking for opportunities to present myself to the young people. Generational change. Occasionally, I meet with young Andrew Hastie from the nether regions and suggest he go easy.

‘This isn’t a one day game, it’s a test match,’ I whisper to him over my shoulder. ‘No need for your in and out SAS heroics here my young friend, this is peacetime. What in the end can you deliver, that’s the question?’

That’s the bottom line. First, we discuss his preference deals.

There’s so much depth of experience within the party. These are very exciting times indeed.

‘You’ve got to dance with the one who brung you’, I remind the young political hopeful, softly closing the door once he’s entered.

I’ve got an awful lot of balls in the air, simultaneously. Heady days indeed.

I remember Christopher Pyne back in his hey day. There’s something about Christopher that reminds me of former Liberal Party stalwart Alexander Downer. Especially from that photo shoot combining the fishnet stockings, the high heels, the cheap suit and the knowing facial expression, eyes locked, unfortunately on the viewer. An image that, once seen, stays with you long after you’d hoped.

Polls don’t lie and I have a real depth of talent, waiting in the wings ready to join the team I’ll lead. I do hope Christopher is able to get his poll back up, for his own sake. There’s a plethora of options open to me. Christopher has always loved a man in uniform, so I’ll probably appease him with the Defence portfolio. That’ll keep him tied up, for the time being. He has an appetite for new hardware and within the trenches, he’s a seasoned performer. The Defence community will be grateful to have Christopher take them by the reins. They need a firm hand those Defence personnel.

Shaping a cabinet is my priority job as Leader. The exclusive Boy’s Club that Tony and his mates preferred to work with (within their inner sanctum) is over. Too much give, not enough take. I have a noteworthy taste, for the inclusion of more carefully selected women on my large staff. I’m a firm believer in having many points of entry inside the almighty corridors of power.

Good governance is really all about balance. Peace making is never about your friends; it’s about extending yourself out to your enemies. Big Joe Hockey can’t be left hanging. He’ll need to bow down and address my new pyramid of power. With this in mind, I’ve told Joe to swing by. We need a face-to-face meet, to smooth out some of our misunderstandings. Joe needs to extend his broad skill base and I’m confident we can meet eye to eye. Joe should stop blowing hot air into the media vacuum or there will be no room left on board for his formidable girth. With some kindly adjustments, I think we could be a good fit. Work through to a mutually beneficial Free Trade Agreement.

A dissatisfied party, battered and bruised by another long week of turbulent politicking needs assurances. I’ll put my own stiff self-interest well behind the interests of the party. It’s a new day and we need to be confident about the many challenges that lay ahead. Fear is not an emotion I condone. I look forward to freshening up a scene that has been looking on at one too many party room spills in recent years. Such a messy business. I finally got the numbers and whilst there’s never an ideal time for another leadership challenge, Lucy assured me I had what it takes to shore up the party, at this particularly frustrating juncture. Together we must be confident. I assure you there has never been a better time to be alive. Australian and alive.

Julia Gillard had some experience on top. Rudd was eager to remain dominant but lacked any meaningful experience and preferred doing things by himself. Tony Abbott clearly preferred the missionary position (for himself and his entire electorate) exclusive of gay marriage debates, a platform that God, apparently doesn’t get into. Quite yet. I’ll deliver a stalling Plebiscite to prepare the electorate for what they clearly desire.

Politics, my learned friends, like the rest of life, is all about perception. And I perceive myself to be a virile specimen rather than a one trick pony. Rather than calling me president, you could say I’m the first amongst equals. For now, I’m off to celebrate my big win. The wife’s going to bend over backwards for me.